by Ann Bakshis
“How long have you been practicing that lie?”
“It’s not a lie,” I say, retaking my seat. “If you choose not to believe me, then that’s your choice to make.”
The conversation hits a lull, which only makes the room feel suffocating. I know Kerron has a lot on his mind, I just wish he’d get on with this inquisition so it can finally be over and done with.
“Is Elizabeth dead, or not?” he finally asks after the prolonged silence has gotten to him.
“Let me propose this to you. Knowing how dangerous Gregor and Moyra are, do you imagine you’d be safe knowing the truth of what happened that night at the hut? Are you willing to risk the lives of those you don’t know to gain this knowledge? If the secret dies with me, then there’s no harm to anyone… not even you. But if you continue trying to obtain the information you so desperately seek, you could be putting several innocent lives in tremendous danger.”
“You can’t be certain of that,” he says, before taking a sip of his drink.
“There’s nothing certain about life. That I learned the hard way when Elizabeth had to die,” I say.
“So, she’s dead then? That was her body I burned?” Kerron asks with little emotion, which doesn’t surprise me.
“Yes,” I say, lying. “I’m afraid it was.”
Kerron finishes his brandy, sets the glass on the table between our chairs, and leaves without saying another word. I couldn’t tell him the truth about his sister—it would put her in too much danger. He has to believe the worst of me in order for her and the child to survive, but it means I won’t be alive much longer.
I finish my drink, set the glass beside Kerron’s, and head upstairs to bed. As I lie there listening to the wind howling outside, I know this will be the last night I sleep in this room. When the king returns his son will be dead. It’s a death I’ve been praying for the moment I sent Elizabeth away.
Two
Kerron
It doesn’t take much to convince a man to murder another, especially when they’re told what they’re doing is right and just. I find that man exiting one of the bathhouses shortly after leaving the castle. If David were to die directly by my hands, it would draw too much suspicion from both Gregor and Moyra. It has to look like a disgruntled villager, and they aren’t hard to find. I made sure to change out of my Vagter uniform before making my way down to this part of the village since anyone wearing my colors would be automatically deemed as out of place. Only the king can get away with absconding with the likes of these heathens, but not the leader of his royal guards.
I take the young man I encountered, who can’t be older than seventeen, to a nearby tavern and ply him with as much ale as his stomach will tolerate. I make sure we stay at a table towards the back where it’s dark and no one really notices us while I try to convince him of the treachery the kingdom has towards his kind.
“There’s no place in this world for people like us,” I say, slapping him on the arm and drinking, but not too much as I still need to keep my head about me. “I heard the king mention that he’s going to be forming an army to invade one of our allied kingdoms to the south. And do you know where he’s going to get these men to fight for him?”
“No. Where?” the young man asks, hanging on my every word.
“Us, that’s where,” I reply. “He plans on raiding this entire area and forcing us to fight a war for him that doesn’t need to happen. And in all honesty, I don’t want to die for that asshole.”
“Me neither,” the young man says, slamming his pint down against the table, splashing some of the dark liquid onto his rancid clothes.
“So, what do we do?” I ask, pretending to slur my words.
“We’ve got to stop him,” the young man says. “Our kingdom is big enough that we don’t need any more mouths to feed or go hungry. Gregor doesn’t give a damn about any of us, just his power and keeping control.”
“But if the king is dead, his son will assume the throne and take over. From what I hear, he’s just like his father, perhaps even worse.”
“That’s unacceptable,” the young man slurs a little too loudly, drawing a few stares from around the room. “They all have to die. It’s the only way to stop this monarchy from killing us in new ways.”
“I agree, but I can’t do this on my own. I need help.”
“I’ll help you,” the young man says, smiling. “I’ll help you right now if you’d like. I’ve got nothing better to do anyway.”
“Perfect,” I say, sneering.
I pay for the drinks and have to practically drag the young man outside into the cool night air, which has no effect on him. I help him up onto my saddle and slowly make our way out of the village. It’ll be easy to sneak him into the castle since there’s a passageway from a tower that resembles one of the many tall, thick oak trees in the forest and goes under ground before coming up into the linen closet in the kitchen. It’s how Gregor managed to sneak out at night for his trysts or bring them into the castle without anyone knowing when the queen was still alive. He always told me to stand guard in the kitchen to make sure he was able to return when no one else was around and to escort his ladies out before morning.
I didn’t just happen upon this young man by accident either. In fact, he’s the son of one of the king’s whores. I made sure to select him specifically as his mother is also one who’s been through the secret passageway many times and would’ve easily bragged about it to her son. Both will die for treason, but at least Elizabeth will have been avenged.
Even though I never met my sister, I feel a strong pull towards her—a need to show my love and loyalty to the only family member who could’ve possibly showed me any sort of affection. From the way the husband and wife who raised her described it, Elizabeth would’ve done anything for anyone, regardless of position in life. She was caring, kind, and looked after the other children as if they were her own blood. My heart bleeds at never getting to know this woman, and I’ll punish myself daily for neglecting her.
I wish I’d known of her existence. Perhaps I could’ve protected her from the likes of David, gotten her out of the kingdom before he murdered her. Or better yet, the two of us could’ve escaped this hell together and started over somewhere else. But one can’t change the past no matter how hard we wish it.
It’s too late for all of that now. She’s gone, along with the child she was carrying, and my half-brother feels no remorse. I’m sure he did love her in the beginning, but don’t we all love the people we’re with at the start? There’ve been plenty of women I’ve loved over the course of the last several years, but I didn’t slaughter them to hide my indiscretions. Not like David and Gregor did, and perhaps still do. I doubt Elizabeth was the only one whose life my brother ended with the cut of a knife. He may act like an honorable man, but he’s as contemptible as our father. I don’t give a damn if David is cheating on Moyra. I wouldn’t blame him at all if he were, but it’s completely different when it’s my sister and her unborn child.
By the time we reach the forest, the young man is passed out cold. I shove him off the horse, open the door in the trunk of the tree, and push him through. The slight tumble down the stairs at the opening doesn’t bring him out of his stupor, so I have to slap him several times to rouse him before we can even move down the passageway. He’s slightly disoriented, but when I tell him where we are, he remembers our conversation and is chomping at the bit to slice a throat. We make our way slowly in the dull light from torches that hang from the walls. I’m surprised they’re lit since Gregor is supposedly still out in the valley, but perhaps he returned early and is currently romping around in his room with a guest.
Or my brother has company, which wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I’m sure he and Gregor share their conquests now with the queen gone and Moyra busy with the baby. They both disgust me to no end, and I can’t wait to be rid of them. I hope this kingdom falls quickly. I’d love to see an uprising and the entire castle razed.
; When we reach the door for the linen closet, I gently push against it to get a quick peek at who might be lurking in the bowels of the castle at this time of night. The large room is empty, so I open the door wide enough for the young man and me to pass through. I select a butcher knife from the many pieces of cutlery that line the wall behind the cutting board, but I don’t give it to the young man just yet. I don’t need him turning on me before his job is done.
I lead the two of us up the back staircase that only the servants use to gain access to the upper floors. When we’re outside David’s room I listen through the door, but I only hear silence coming from the other side. I carefully open the door and notice he’s alone in bed, sound asleep. I hand the knife to the young man, point out his victim, and quietly close the door behind him. As screams erupt from David’s bedchamber, I hasten down the corridor to a broom closet where I stashed my longsword before I left the castle for the night. I reach the bedchamber door at the same time as some of my officers, who must have been summoned by the servants upon hearing the torment coming from the prince’s room.
I burst through the door and rush towards my brother’s side as the young man hacks away at the now lifeless body. I run my blade through the man’s back, killing him instantly.
“Secure the entryways and search the castle to see if there are any more lurking about,” I order a few of the guards.
When they’re gone, I tell the others to remove the assassin’s body and to identify who he is, as well as round up anyone he may be associated with, including his family. The minute I’m alone I close the door and make my way back to the bed. A look of absolute horror is permanently etched on my brother’s face, with the butcher knife stuck in his ribs. I decide to leave it in place to show my disdain for him. I raise my sword above the body and run it through his heart even though it’s no longer beating. I need to feel his blood on my weapon, to feel his heart being ripped open like he did to me when he slaughtered my sister with such ease. I remove the sword and step out into the hallway where I summon additional men to stand guard outside the bedchamber until the king returns.
I head down to the library where I rest my sword against the fireplace mantel and pour myself some brandy. Before relaxing in one of the chairs I feed a couple of logs to the dwindling fire as a cold draft fills the room. Minutes later I hear the king’s thunderous footsteps rushing across the stone floor just outside the room.
“What the hell happened?” he bellows, then rips the glass from my hand and throws it against the hearth, shattering it.
“Your son has been murdered, Your Majesty,” I reply calmly from my seat. “The assassin has been dealt with, as will his co-conspirators if there are any.”
“How can you sit there so coolly when my life is in danger?” he practically shouts.
“Because my men are searching the castle and its grounds. If they discover any more of these people, they’ll be dealt with accordingly.”
“You did this, didn’t you?” Gregor asks, grabbing my collar and hoisting me out of the chair. “Why? So you could be king instead of him?”
“I don’t want the throne,” I utter. “Not when it turns honorable men into evil scoundrels like David… and you.”
The king throws me across the room, and I land hard against his desk, knocking it several feet out of place. “Are you trying to cause a revolt?” he yells. “Didn’t you consider the consequences your actions will cause?”
“Of course I did,” I say crossly, getting to my feet. “I was very careful in who I convinced to perform the job. All you’ll have to do is conduct a few perfunctory executions and everything will go back to normal.”
“And Moyra? What do I do with her?”
“She’s the mother of your grandson, who’s now the rightful heir to the throne. I don’t give a damn what you do to either of them, honestly. Corrupt the young man like you tried to do with David and myself. Raise him to be just like you, as long as I’m not a part of it.”
“You’re going to be the center of it all,” the king says, getting in my face, his breath heavy with alcohol. “I’ll wed you off to Moyra despite your protests. But you’re correct about one thing: I’ll take full custody of Lycus and raise him how I see fit. You’ll still be the leader of the Vagter, but you’ll never be king and Moyra will never be queen. You’re going to have to deal with her wrath when she finds out what you’ve done. That’s your punishment for all of this, living with that wretched woman as man and wife until you both die.”
“And if I refuse?”
His face contorts into a rabid expression. “Then that precious sister of yours dies,” he replies.
“What sister?” I ask, confused.
“The one David supposedly killed,” the king says, seething. “Elizabeth.”
“But she’s dead… I saw the body myself,” I stammer.
“Are you sure it was her and not your mother?”
“I…I don’t know,” I say as the world around me begins to spin out of control and air is becoming scarce.
“Neither of us have been able to find her in months and from what I’ve gathered they resembled each other quite strikingly.”
“How do you know all of this?” I ask, knots forming in my stomach at the realization that David had been lying to me all along to protect my sister and that he was right about the dangers of knowing the truth.
“I have spies everywhere, you know that,” Gregor replies, a little more relaxed. “Unfortunately, they lost track of the young woman months ago. She must have slipped out of the kingdom’s domain. Whomever she’s with is hiding her very well from me.”
Caster—it has to be. That’s why he went away, but I can’t let the king know any of that or Elizabeth will be killed, regardless of what I try to say or the promises I’ll make.
“Did they tell you if she was still carrying David’s child?” I ask, my heart beginning to shatter.
“From what they told me, it didn’t appear that she was. I’m sure the turmoil your brother put her through was enough to cause her to lose it, and thank goodness for that,” Gregor says, sounding rather proud.
If that’s true, then why hasn’t Caster returned? The child has to be alive, which is why he’s hiding Elizabeth so well. The rightful heir to the throne isn’t Lycus, but Elizabeth’s child, and he or she must be protected at all cost. That’s exactly what David was doing and why he allowed himself to be murdered.
Can I ever forgive myself for what I’ve done?
“What do you need from me?” I ask, surrendering my soul.
My father smiles, as he knows he has me beat. “The moment Moyra returns with the baby, the two of you will move into the spare house at the back of the property where you’ll live out your days,” Gregor says as he begins pacing in front of me. “I’ll raise Lycus here in the castle with me. He shall have no contact with his mother, and you will continue to serve as the leader of the Vagter. If at any time Moyra becomes too much for you to handle, kill her like you did your brother. She has no family to miss her, and her so-called friends in the countryside can be easily manipulated into forgetting she ever existed. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
Moyra returns the following morning and is surprisingly shocked to hear about David’s death, though it doesn’t last very long and she’s quickly on the offense about gaining access to the throne. Her badgering leads to alternate plans that Gregor makes hastily, but I don’t object to going through with them. The mother of the young man who killed David, as well as two other men, are beheaded in the town square for treason the following afternoon. I would’ve thought having the executions conducted in the village to be more appropriate, but the king feels the good people of Longemere who reside in the town are more deserving of the show. Gregor orders all of the kingdom that lies within a day’s journey to watch, so they remember he really holds their fate in his hands.
The following day, Gregor calls Moyra to his library and orders her to bring
the baby. I stand beside my father as he sits behind his desk when Moyra enters, a smirk plastered across her face.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asks as sweetly as her acidic personality will allow.
“Let me hold my grandson,” Gregor says in the same tone she used.
Moyra passes the baby over to him and the moment Lycus is in his hands my father nods towards me. I go around to Moyra, grab her arms, and haul her from the chair.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yells angrily as she begins to thrash about, trying to free herself, so I tie her hands behind her back, then force her down onto her knees.
“This, my dear young woman, is how I take control of my family,” Gregor says. “Now, you have two options: one is to relinquish Lycus into my care and never see him again, and two is death. Which one would you prefer?”
“Are you serious?” she asks, horrified. She no longer fights against me and instead becomes rigid and trembles ever so slightly.
“I’m quite serious,” my father replies, his face hardening. “Without David, there’s no need for you any longer as I’ve already obtained what I wanted the most from your marriage to my son, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to permit you to have any more children who might have a right to the throne.”
“You can’t do this,” she cries, tears falling from her eyes, but I can’t tell if they’re real or crocodilian.
“I’m king, Moyra, I can do any damn thing I want. Now, choose which option you will be taking, because my time is precious.”
“I told my father you were treacherous,” she hisses. “I thought that if I played the game your way, I’d get better treatment, but I guess I was wrong. If all the previous monarchs who sat in that throne were as horrid as you, it’s no wonder Murias was created.”
“What’s she talking about?” I ask while Gregor glares at Moyra, hatred pulsing from his eyes.
“Does anyone in Geron know their true history, or have you been able to hide that as well as you hid all of your affairs?” she continues to rant.
